The WakeUp Call
by shireling
Summary: In the aftermath of an explosion, the team discover that McGee has resigned. Gibbs must answer some difficult questions before he can put things right
1. Chapter 1

**Wake up Call**

"Gibbs!" He answered the call with more that his usual abruptness, irritated that it had caught him just before he could make his escape and get to the hospital to find out what was going on.

"_Agent Gibbs, Director Morrow needs to see you and your team now; conference room 2."_

"We were just heading out. . ."

"_It wasn't a request, Special Agent Gibbs."_

"But, my man. . ."

"_Now, Agent Gibbs!"_ Morrow's assistant was more than used to dealing with the Senior Special Agent and he knew just when to lay down the law.

Gibbs snapped his cell shut and took a moment to force down his anger and throw another empty coffee cup into the trash.

"Tony, Kate. . .conference room 2. Now!"

What's going on, Boss. . .I thought we were going. . .!"

"So did I, DiNozzo, but it appears that something more important has come up," Gibbs growled in a tone that prevented either of the two subdued agents from commenting further. "Go! I'll be there in a minute when I've got some more damn coffee."

Tony and Kate stowed their packs under their desks and each locked their weapons in a desk drawer.

As they made their way back to the conference room Tony pulled out his cell and punched quick dial but the number he called went straight to voice mail; he left a brief message before hanging up with a sigh.

"He won't have his cell on, Tony; you know how strict they are about that."

"I know, Kate. I just. . .I just wanted to know if there was any news."

"Tony, it's not your fault. You know that don't you?"

"Yeah, so you say."

"DiNozzo, what are you waiting for? The Director won't be sending out engraved invitations!" Tony flinched for a head-slap but although Gibbs had raised his hand to administer the expected blow the gesture was aborted. It was never a good sign when the Boss was too livid to dole out his usual chastisement.

"Director Morrow, you wanted to see us."

"Agent Gibbs." The Director waved then all to take a seat. No one seemed particularly keen to break the uncomfortable silence.

"Before we start I thought you would like an update from Bethesda. . . I have just spoken to Dr Mallard; Agent McGee's condition is listed as critical. . ."

"Do they have a diagnosis?" Tony blurted out.

"Tony!"

"No, it's alright, Agent Todd, I understand that you are all worried about what happened today," Morrow assured Kate. Gibbs looked up at the comment, reading more into it than just the superficial reassurance.

"We are _all_ concerned about McGee, Director!"

"I would expect nothing less, Gibbs."

"So, do you know the diagnosis?"

"They are doing a CT scan. . . They is some concern that McGee is suffering from a subdural haematoma. . .if the scan confirms it they will take him straight to the OR for surgery!"

"That's like a stroke, right?"

"No, a stroke is a bleed into the brain. . .this is more like a leak of blood between the layers covering the brain." Kate explained.

"So it's not as serious as a stroke!" Tony asked seeking reassurance.

"Any bleeding inside the scull is serious, Tony. . .it's a rigid box; anything that increases the pressure inside the box. . .causes damage!"

"But they can fix it, can't they."

"Agent DiNozzo, they have excellent neurosurgeons at Bethesda. McGee is in the best of hands." Director Morrow assured them all.

"Is there a reason why you called us here, Director? We should be at Bethesda!"

"Yes, there is a very good reason, Special Agent Gibbs." The Director turned over a piece of paper and placed it on the table. . .they all recognised the header of an internal email. The formality with which the Director addressed Gibbs cranked up their level of anxiety. "Yesterday McGee made an appointment to see me. He failed to keep the appointment because of the incident at the crime scene"

"Do you know what he wanted to see you about, Director?"

"No. Just that it was a personal matter," the Director explained, " and then I received this today. . .it is from McGee."

"And what does it say, Director."

"Amongst other things, it is a letter of resignation."

"No! No way. I do not believe that McGee would resign without saying anything to us. . .this must be a fake. . .someone has hacked the system. Probie wouldn't. . .!"

"Tony is right; McGee wouldn't bypass the chain of command. He goes by the rules; Gibbs is his immediate superior; he would go through Gibbs, even for something like this. . ."

"When was this sent?" There was a core of steel in Gibbs demand.

"The time signature was 10.34."

"So, it was sent while we were out picking up Commander Dalton and about an hour before we returned and found McGee. . .found him unconscious."

"Yes. . .and I have checked, the email was sent from McGee's computer; the document was still open on his desktop."

"But he was obviously already ill. When we tried to call him from the car and he didn't answer we called Abby and she said he had been down to see her looking for some painkillers. . .for a migraine."

The Director eyed the remnants of his MCRT, noting their shock.

"I can assure you I will not be taking action on his email until Special Agent McGee is fully fit and able to confirm that it is a genuine request. But at the moment I am more interested in the reason why we find ourselves in this position."

"What is it you want to know, Director?"

"Agent DiNozzo, what was your last interaction with McGee before you three headed out to bring in Commander Dalton. . .and before you answer, take a second to consider just how much of the bullpen I can see from the balcony,"

Tony cast an anxious glance at Gibbs. They had all occasionally looked up to see the Director observing his agents at work but none of them could be sure if or what he had seen that morning.

"It was a usual Tuesday morning. . .well, usual except that McGee was late in. . .I was giving him a hard time. . .

"And?"

"And what, Sir ?"

"Did he offer any explanation as to why he was late? As you say, it was uncharacteristic for McGee not to be in before you."

"I never really asked. . ."

"So, you were harassing Agent Mcgee because for once you had beaten him in to work?. . .Was your hard time just verbal or did it involve a more physical component." The Director asked.

"It was just a head slap!"

"Agent Gibbs, were you present during DiNozzo and McGee's 'interaction'?"

"Not this particular one, no."

"And your own encounter with McGee this morning?"

"Are you questioning how I run my team, Director?"

"Just answer the question, Gibbs."

"McGee was late. He was distracted and unfocussed. . ."

"And that was out of character for McGee?"

"Yes."

"So, it was just a wake-up call. . .a clip around the back of the head. . . what everyone here call a 'Gibbs-slap'!"

"yes,"

"Did he complain?"

"No. McGee doesn't complain. He knows that if it is me doling it out then he needs to pick up his game."

"I see." The Director turned his attention to Kate." Agent Todd, how did you spend your evening yesterday?"

"I was at Bethesda. After the explosion at the crime scene yesterday, Ducky insisted that McGee and I go and get checked out. McGee was reluctant but Gibbs ordered us both to go, while he and Tony processed the scene."

"And you were given the all clear?"

"Yes, Sir. They patched me up and gave me a tetanus shot. McGee gave me some cash to get me home in a cab; I'd left my wallet in the truck at the scene."

"And McGee? was he sent home too?"

"I assume so; he wasn't injured. I think he was just hanging around there to keep me company."

"Is that true, DiNozzo?"

"He got thrown by the blast. . .a perfect swan dive into the bushes; ten out of ten for the Probie for artistic merit," Tony quipped.

"Can it, DiNozzo! What are you getting at here, Director? You clearly know something that we don't," Gibbs demanded, "and I don't appreciate being kept in the dark about members of my team."

"Agent McGee was only released from the hospital at 06.00 this morning; they kept him in overnight for observation."

"No, that can't be right. . .When I called him last night he said Kate had gone home and that he would be going shortly."

"Why did they keep him in?"Kate asked.

"They were worried he had a concussion"

"But he wasn't injured. He didn't bang his head and he wasn't knocked out. Ducky checked him out and said he was just a bit banged-up. . .he only sent him to the hospital with Kate because he didn't want her going alone.

"He never said anything. This morning when he came in he never said anything!"

"Did any of you ask?" Suddenly the Director seemed even more intimidating than Gibbs on a really bad day. " The most junior member of your team got blown halfway across some dirtbag's back yard and not one of you even thought to ask if he was alright. . .if he needed to talk about what must have been a terrifying experience!"

"Is that why he resigned. Is this just him being petulant because we didn't hold his hand and ask if he was OK!" Gibbs allowed his worry to come out as sarcasm.

"I thought you took pride in your ability to read people, Gibbs!" There was more than a hint of disgust in the Directors expression. "Special Agent McGee appears to be under the impression that he was responsible for yesterday's explosion and he says he is no longer prepared to be responsible for putting the team at risk!"

"He triggered the trip-wire, but it could just as easily have been any one of us," Kate explained, "none of us saw the wire and we had no reason to believe that the house was booby-trapped."

"I was on his case; he can be really clumsy; I told him he had nearly killed us all! I'm sorry Boss, I thought he knew I was joking. . .just like all the other times."

"Well, no one is laughing now, are they DiNozzo!"

"Gibbs, Director, what can we do?" Kate asked.

"Director, could we have a copy of McGee's email." Gibbs was angry but his anger was directed at himself and at a situation that had spiralled out of control. "With your permission, Sir, we need to be at the hospital for when McGee comes out of surgery." He waved his two agents out but before he could join them the Director called him back.

"Sort this out, Jethro. We cannot afford to lose an agent with as much potential as McGee. The future of the agency is going to rely more and more on the particular skills that he brings to the job. I know he is inexperienced and that his field skills need honing but he knows computers better than anyone we have currently in the agency. Do not let him slip from our grasp because he could not tolerate your particular brand of man management."

"I treat my team all the same!"

"Well, they're not all the same and I would dispute that you treat them as such. You don't head-slap Abby or Agent Todd and what works on DiNozzo isn't necessarily the right way to get the best out of someone of McGee's temperament or background. He's been pushed to the edge, Jethro, and I expect you to do whatever it takes to pull him back."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When Gibbs got down to the car Tony handed him the keys but instead of keeping them he lobbed them back, getting into the passenger seat .

"Boss!"

"Just get us to the hospital, DiNozzo. . .and if you go one click faster than the posted speed limit you will be driving nothing but your desk for the next month." He tuned them both out and pulled the copy of McGee's email from his jacket. From her seat in the back Kate caught Tony's eye but he just shrugged off her concern as he pulled out, carefully, into the traffic.

At the hospital, Tony dropped Gibbs and Kate at the ER entrance. "DiNozzo, park up and go find Abby. . .she should be with Ducky; 4th floor, east wing. . .Kate, you're with me."

Bypassing the triage desk, Gibbs headed for the nurses' station and flashed his badge.

"I need to know about my man, Agent McGee! He was seen here yesterday." The nurse at the desk shrank back in the face of his aggression but before she could even begin to answer another player entered the arena.

"Special Agent Gibbs! What have I told you before about intimidating my staff!" Gibbs spun around to answer only to find the speaker so far into his own personal space that they were practically nose to chin. . .and he was not the one with the advantage, neither was he able to retreat, being pinned against the desk by the tall, rail-thin Head Nurse.

Kate watched the confrontation with some bemusement. Neither participant seemed disposed to back down and when the staring contest seemed deadlocked the nurse upped the ante by placing her hands on the desk on either side of Gibbs and getting even further into his face.

Gibbs broke the impasse, leaning forward and pecking her on the cheek. "Nurse Fletcher. . .a pleasure , as always."

"You know each other?" Kate blurted out.

"Ah huh."

Kate suddenly wished she had remained silent; Nurse Fletcher turned her attention to the young agent and her expression hardened.

"Did I or did I not send you home yesterday with a sling and with instructions to use it until your sutures were removed!"

". . ."

"Well!"

"Yes, Ma'am, you did."

"Were my instructions unclear?"

"No, Ma'am. . .but it's fine, really.. . ."

"And did you inform your superior that you were only cleared for desk duty?" Kate glimpsed the trace of a smile on Gibbs' face and concluded he was enjoying being temporarily out of the firing line.

"No, Ma'am."

"Stand there and do not move. . .either of you." Nurse Fletcher disappeared into a store room and returned with a sling which she proceeded to fit around Kate's left arm having first checked the sutures on her forearm. "Special Agent Todd, just because you work in the testosterone-fuelled atmosphere of NCIS it does not mean you need to copy the macho posturing of your co-workers! Injuries heal much more quickly and with fewer problems if you follow doctor's orders." Nurse Fletcher winked to take the sting out of her words. "Now, Agent Todd, I believe you have something to tell your Boss."

"Gibbs, I'm afraid I am not fit for field duty. . .at the moment."

Nurse Fletcher turned her attention back to Gibbs. " Now, Jethro, what else can I do for you?"

"Can you tell me what happened here last night to my junior agent, Timothy McGee. I understand he was kept in overnight."

"You know I can't give you medical information without his permission, Jethro."

"Please, Meg. Tim collapsed today and they think he may have had a bleed. . .he's in surgery as we speak. . .we didn't even know he was kept in overnight. The last we heard was that he was being discharged just after Kate. . .he didn't say anything about it when he came into work today. We need to know what happened. What can you tell me?

Meg went behind the counter and flicked through a large ledger on the desk.

"He was seen in ER after 16.00 and found to be suffering from extensive but minor bruising and lacerations to his arms and torso; a neuro panel showed no obvious abnormalities just a minor headache. He would have been released then but he elected to wait until agent Todd was ready to leave. At 19.35 while he was at the desk signing out he complained of dizziness and blurred vision before fainting. We took x-rays and a CT scan, neither of which showed any indication of abnormality. We admitted him to the observation ward and monitored his condition overnight. He was discharged at 06.00 with instructions to rest and to return immediately if he had any further symptoms."

"We found him unconscious at his desk when we returned from a case. . ."

"Wait, are you telling me that he was back at work!" friendly Meg had disappeared and hard-assed Senior Nurse Fletcher was back in charge.

"He turned up for work. . .he never said anything about his injuries nor about being unfit for duty. . .I am not a nursemaid. . .I trust my team to tell me if their fitness for duty is compromised."

"Then I suggest you need to change the rules! Special agents Todd and McGee both seem to be under the impression that they are indestructible and that normal rules of mortality do not apply to them. And don't even get me started on DiNozzo. . .he would be insisting he was fine while taking his last gasping breath. Why do you think that is, Special Agent Gibbs!"

"Are you saying it is my fault!"

"I am merely asking you to consider why your agents feel the need to hide their injuries and push themselves beyond the norms of reasonable behaviour. Their loyalty to you is beyond question. . .but what of your responsibility to them. . .you need to let them know that it is alright to be human. . .that no one expects them to be super heroes."

"We don't. . .it's just. . . Gibbs doesn't demand anything of us that he doesn't. . ."

"That is not reassuring, Agent Todd. . .I have personal experience of just how far Agent Gibbs will go to avoid medical attention."

"Hey! We are not here to discuss my personal foibles. Thank you for your time, Nurse Fletcher, and Meg," he continued, his gaze softening, "thank you for looking out for my people." He reached up and kissed her cheek and as he turned to stalk off towards the elevator she cuffed him gently on the back of the head.

oooOOOooo

Hospital waiting rooms. He hated them and everything they represented. He hated the clinical smells and the out of date magazines and the uncomfortable seats and most of all he hated the tense and unnatural silence. . .the way that whispered conversations shimmied from group to group, allowing no one the privacy they needed at their time of crisis.

They seemed to have been waiting for hours, with only the increasing number of discarded coffee cups and empty soda cans to mark the passage of hours. Ducky had escaped once beyond the locked doors on a quest for information but he brought back no news. For the fourth time Gibbs pulled out the crumpled email and carefully smoothed it out on his lap.

"What does it say, Boss?"

Gibbs read it through once more and then handed it over. Tony placed it on the table and the others all huddled round to read it.

_Director Morrow_

_Given recent circumstances, it has become increasingly clear that my continued presence on the MCRT poses an unacceptable risk to my work colleagues and to members of the public. I feel I have no alternative but to tender my resignation with immediate effect._

_I am more sorry than I can convey that I have failed to attain the high standards required and will always regret that my long held dream to serve with NCIS was not to be._

_Respectfully yours_

_Timothy McGee_

"Gibbs, you've got to do something! You can't let the Director accept this! We can't lose McGee, we just can't!"

"I know Abby, but we can't make him stay if he doesn't want to be here anymore."

"There is nothing in that letter to suggest that he _wants_ to leave NCIS, Gibbs. For some reason he feel he has to leave, that he is putting us at risk." Kate remarked.

"Abby, did you have any idea that he was considering leaving?"

"No, Gibbs, I would have told you. I mean he was really upset about the computer girl. . .he felt responsible for not getting to her in time. . .but he doesn't really say much, even to me. He doesn't confide in me about work things, I guess because he knows how close I am to you all. . .and I'm not sure he really trusts me with personal things, not after we had that . . .."

"That what, Abbs?"

"Well, he wanted to get serious and I got mad because he was pushing. . .I think I hurt him."

"But you made up, right?"

"Yeah, but we never really got back to where we were. . .he put up a barrier, it was like he was pretending that everything was back to normal but I'd catch him looking at me sometimes. . .."

The conversation was halted when a tall middle aged man accompanied by a doctor in scrubs walked through the waiting room to the door into ICU and were allowed entrance.

"Ducky can't you find out what's going on," Gibbs needed more coffee and his patience was running thin.

"I can try, Jethro," Ducky rang the bell and waited to be buzzed in. He returned a few minutes later.

"Well, Duck?"

"Timothy is out of surgery. . .his condition is still listed as critical. . .beyond that I can really tell you little else."

"What's going on, Ducky? Why won't they tell us?"

"When will we be able to see him?" How bad is it?"

"Please, everyone. He survived the surgery, he is on life support. His father is with him and, at his insistence, they are strictly enforcing the family only rule. . .we will not be allowed access to Timothy until his family allow it."

"What!"

"I really would suggest that you all go home and get some rest. Commander McGee has taken my telephone number and has promised to notify me of any changes to his condition. . .but he was quite adamant that he would not be allowing us to disturb Timothy tonight." Ducky looked around at the shocked faces of the team and knew just how hard they were taking this latest blow.

"Did the Commander give you any reason, Ducky? Does he blame us for McGee's injury?" Tony asked, voicing their widely held fear.

"He is naturally very worried. . .he also seems to be under the impression that we have not been quite as supportive of Timothy as we should have been. . .though he didn't explain that belief to me."

"Are we to blame, Ducky?"

"Look, Timothy was caught up in an explosion! You've been in battle, Gibbs, you know how serious a blast can be," Ducky explained. "And though McGee should have followed doctor's orders, I think we can all be grateful in this instance that he did not. . .if he had gone home and collapsed there alone, we would not have known and the consequences of that are too terrible to imagine."

"So it wasn't the head-slap, Ducky? Did I make things worse?"

"I can't tell you that, Tony. . .but I doubt it felt good to Timothy at the time."

"Ducky, did you have any idea that McGee was struggling, that he felt so out of his depth?"

"Jethro, Timothy is a very private man, he doesn't find social interaction easy and until he feels very comfortable in a relationship he is unlikely to risk opening up. I believe that Timothy often feels himself at a disadvantage because of his background and I am afraid to say that his treatment at the hands of the team may have reinforced that belief."

"Hey, that's not fair! We do look out for him!" Tony protested loudly.

"Yes, you do. You also constantly tease and belittle him; you set him up so that Gibbs gets on his case, you mock his dress sense, his personal life and his off duty interests, you rub his nose in his phobias. . ."

"But that's just teasing. . ."

"Tony," Ducky interrupted sharply "do you think he always believes that, that just sometimes he may take it to heart?"

Gibbs had heard enough. "Look, this is getting us nowhere. Go home everyone. I'll see you at work at 08.00. Don't be late."

"Gibbs we can't just leave. We can't leave Tim here on his own!" Abby's tears had started again.

"Abby, Tim isn't on his own," Gibbs assured her gently. "He has his family. . .and at the moment we are not wanted here. Much as I hate to say it, we have to respect that. If Ducky wasn't able to persuade Commander McGee. . . ."

"But it's so mean!"

"I know, Abbs, but I'm sure the Commander has his reasons. . he is probably terrified at just how close a call it was. When McGee starts to recover I'm sure we will get the chance to see him and find out just what this is all about." Gibbs assured her, picking up the crumpled email and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"Will he recover, Ducky?" Abby begged.

"The doctors are cautiously optimistic, my dear. The CT scan showed, not a bleed as was at first feared but cerebral oedema, generalised swelling of the brain; in surgery, they removed a section of his skull to alleviate the raised intracranial pressure. The will keep him in a medically induced coma for the next 48 hours to give the medications a chance to help reduce the swelling. If all goes according to plan they will replace the bone when his condition improves sufficiently."

"That sounds gruesome," Kate shuddered.

"It is infinitely better than the alternative, my dear." Ducky assured her gravely.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Reluctantly they all left the hospital but less than two hours later Gibbs was back in the waiting room, showered, changed and with a large thermos of coffee and his own mug. He pulled a blanket from the holdall at his feet and settled in to keep vigil through the night. Every hour, almost like clockwork, he stirred, stretched and went over to the intercom to enquire after his agent. . .and every hour the news was the same, '_no change'_. At 06.00 he checked for a final time, left his cell number with the receptionist and headed back to the office.

And the following night he repeated the process.

With McGee hospitalised and Kate confined to desk duty Gibbs' team were stood down from being first on call; they completed the paperwork on the Dalton case and turned their attention to working through cold cases.

When Gibbs' phone rang Tony and Kate half rose in expectation of a call out; Gibbs waved them back to work and listened in silence.

"I'll be there," Gibbs said finally before snapping his cell closed.

"Boss?" Tony asked when Gibbs holstered his weapon and grabbed his coat. "We got a case?"

"You're in charge, DiNozzo. I'll be off radar for a while. Cover for me." And then he was gone.

oooOOOooo

"Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Commander McGee." The men shook hands, all the while assessing each other. Unusually, it was Gibbs who blinked first.

"I think we need to talk, Agent Gibbs."

"Yes, Sir. How is McG. . .Tim?" Gibbs corrected, recognising that now was not the time for formality.

"He is doing better. They reduced his sedation overnight and have managed to wean him off the ventilator. They won't know if there is any residual damage until Tim wakes up. . .but so far the EEG and brain scans are promising."

Gibbs let out a sigh of relief as the feeling of dread he had been under for the last 48 hours began to ease. "Before we continue, do you mind if I just let the rest of the team know that. . .they are all very worried."

"I have just spoken to Dr Mallard to update him on Tim's condition, I'm sure he will have spread the news for you," the Commander assured him. "On the staff's recommendation I have also agreed to extend the list of those allowed to visit Tim to include his work colleagues. . .although visits will have to be short to begin with."

"Thank you, we all appreciate that, Sir."

"Please, it's Mathew."

"Jethro," Gibbs offered in return.

"Jethro," the Commander began wearily, "I believe we are on the same side with regards to my son and yet it appears that he has, yet again, fallen through the cracks."

"I'm not sure I understand, Mathew." Gibbs knew that this interview was going to be difficult but the man before him was an unknown quantity and he was playing for time; seeking clues as to McGee's father's state of mind.

Clearly he was a force to be reckoned with. "Really, I took you for a better judge of character than that, given your reputation!" he said shrewdly. " Director Morrow has informed me that Tim tendered his resignation from NCIS, a fact that appears to have come out of the blue to you and the rest of his colleagues. Why is that, Jethro?. . .how can my son's unhappiness, his anxiety, not have been noticed by those he works with every day?"

"Did you know he was considering it?" Gibbs tried to rein in his discomfort at the implied criticism but his query came out more forcefully than he intended or was comfortable with.

With a glare that would have done Gibbs proud , Commander McGee silently chastised the man facing him. "I think you need a caffeine boost, Jethro," Tim's father pulled a document from his jacket and handed it over. "I would like you to read this while I go and see if I can charm some decent coffee from the doctors' lounge."

Putting on his glasses and stepping over to the window, Gibbs read the email. From the header it had clearly been sent from McGee to his father the previous weekend.

_Dad_

_Thank you for letting me bend your ear for so long yesterday, I am sorry that you missed your tee-off time, I hope you explained to Doug that it was all my fault._

_I really do appreciate you listening to my ranting. .. being able to offload all the mess was just such a relief. I have been worrying myself round in circles and not getting anywhere. I wish there was someone at work I could talk to about this but there isn't and sometimes it is just such a burden._

_I had such high hopes about working here. . .you know just how long this has been my ambition and letting it go will be a wrench. . . but you have always taught me to be practical, to work through a problem and to take the hard decisions. I wanted it to work, Dad, I really did, but I guess some things are just not meant to be. We both knew a long time age that I wasn't cut out for the military and I guess we now have to accept that NCIS is too close to being a military organisation for me, too. The cost of failure is just too high. . .you've served 30 years in the service and have never fired a weapon in anger and it is me, the geeky, nerdy McGee who has the deaths of innocents on my conscience._

_Dad, I can feel the others watching me, judging me and I know they are just waiting for me to screw up again. . I can cope with the name-calling and the hazing; it's nothing new, is it? But it's the look of. . .of disappointment on Gibbs' face that is just so hard to take. I have tried so hard and I keep letting him down; the harder I try the more mistakes I seem to make and now I'm so scared of messing-up that I'm starting to have anxiety attacks at work. He will be doing my half-yearly assessment in a few days and I think it will be better for everyone if I take the initiative and jump before Gibbs is forced to kick me off his team; that way, at least, the failure will be on my head and not his._

_I have thought about my options and I think I have come up with one I can live with. I considered applying for a transfer away from MCRT but any other job in NCIS will always be second best and too much of a reminder of what I have lost. I still have an open invitation from the head-hunters at NSA but I'm not sure I want to stay in DC and I really don't want to spend my entire working life in some windowless, dingy basement crunching numbers and codes until I fry my last creative brain-cell. So I have decided that when you and Mum transfer out to San Diego next month I will relocate to California, too. I have a publisher who has shown an interest in my manuscript and I can put more time and effort into my writing. There are also lots of opportunities in California for me to work freelance on developing computer programmes, maybe even for the DOD, if they allow me to keep my clearances._

_So that's it, I think. I have made my decision and I will speak to the Director tomorrow. . .I have already accumulated enough leave that I hope he will waive a notice period. . .I'm not sure I can face the team when they know I am quitting, it will just confirm to them what they already think. They deserve the best and hopefully they can find someone better suited to the high standards required._

_I will give you a call after work on Monday and let you know how it went_

_Give my love to Mum and Sarah_

_Tim_

_p.s tell Sarah that there are some really good schools in California if she doesn't want to stay in DC on her own._

Gibbs took a large gulp of the coffee Tim's father had placed before him, putting off the moment when he would have to respond to what he had just read.

"This has nothing to do with the explosion yesterday, does it?"

"No, it doesn't. I received it on Sunday."

"I'm sorry. . .I really had no idea. . .none of us did. How can we all have got this so wrong?"

"I know you don't toss out apologies lightly. . .one of your many rules, I believe."

"You know about that?"

"There is very little I don't know about you and your team and how you work, Agent Gibbs. As you can tell, Tim and I have a very close and open relationship. . .he tells me almost everything!"

"Oh."

"Indeed!"

"You don't have a very good opinion of us all, do you?"

"Professionally, I know you are very good at what you do, that your team are the best. . ."

"But?"

"But, I don't understand how you have got it so wrong with Tim. . ." The Commander got to his feet, pacing more from agitation than anger. "Explain to me why my son, who has finally gotten to where he has always wanted to be, is now on the point of throwing it all away? Is he really so bad at his job?"

"NO! No, Tim has the makings of a fine agent, probably one of the best I have ever worked with," Gibbs admitted.

"Then, why?"

"Because I am a hard-assed ex-Marine who really doesn't understand him, I suppose. . .I'm not proud of the fact. I let him down."

"Yes, Gunny, you did and now I want to know what you are going to do about it."

"You want me to try? You really think I can put this right? Do I even deserve a second chance?"

"Jethro, why did you specifically select Tim for your team? What qualities did you see in him that you thought made him suitable for your MCRT?"

"He was dedicated, enthusiastic, talented; I knew he was young for such a prestigious and demanding role but there was something about him that. . .I wanted him on my team. . .and not just because of his technical skills, although they have been a major asset. He's naive but he has an openness that allows him to pick up on things that those of us who have become more cynical can overlook; he brings a new perspective to the job."

"And yet he feels a failure; that he is a liability to the team!"

"I have never said that to him!"

"But have you ever told him that he is doing as well as someone in his position can be expected to do? Did it ever occur to you that your 'sink or swim' philosophy might not be the best way to allow Tim to reach his true potential? Fear may be an effective strategy for getting confessions from suspects but it is no way to boost the confidence of someone of Tim's temperament."

"He's afraid of me?"

"Of course he's afraid of you! You read his words. He's so afraid of letting you down that he is making himself ill. He doesn't say it in that email but insomnia and nightmares are weakening his resilience. He is still greatly troubled by the death of that young girl, Erin. . .he feels responsible for her death."

"But he couldn't have done anything!"

"Knowing it and believing it are two different things. . .it was his case, his first case, and she died. . .while he was talking to her."

"Maybe he is not cut out for this job?" Gibbs offered

"I don't believe that and neither do you. Yes, he's naive but with proper guidance and support I believe he can be a very good field agent. And that is what worries me more than anything else, Agent Gibbs. . .where is the guidance and support that Tim should have been receiving as a probationary agent? Who should he have gone to and why did he feel unable to do so? Why did he feel unable to tell his teammates that he had been kept in Hospital overnight? Why does he feel it necessary to hide any sign of 'weakness'?"

"We work in a tough environment. . .our lives depend on being able to handle the pressure!"

"And the constant barrage of torment and hazing from Agent DiNozzo that Tim has been subjected too? In any other work environment it would be classified as harassment and you have condoned that treatment by allowing it to go unchecked. In a way I understand that you are trying to toughen him up but if that is not balanced out by a modicum of positive encouragement then it is no better than institutionalised bullying."

"If you think so little of the way I run my team, why do you want me to even try to get him to stay?"

"Because it is what he has always wanted to do and I believe that, in the right circumstances, you are the one who can bring out the best in him, for himself and for the Agency. But you need to ask yourself a lot of hard questions and I think you may not like the answers, Special Agent Gibbs. It is up to you to persuade Tim that he should stay and give it another shot. I cannot and will not try to influence his decision. I want Tim to be happy and if that means him finding a niche away from NCIS then so be it."

"I understand."

"Don't let my son down again, Agent Gibbs."

"I won't, Sir."

oooOOOooo

Gibbs had to wait another twenty four hours before Tim was awake. Tony, Kate and Abby had all been in to see him but he had slept through their visits, seemingly unaware of their bantering and their concern.

From the doorway Gibbs looked in, shocked beyond measure at just how _damaged _his youngest agent appeared. Tim's nurse was adjusting one of the many monitors that bleeped a percussive symphony into the otherwise quiet room. Tim was naked with only a folded sheet to preserve his modesty, a tangled spaghetti of wires, tubes and catheters piercing and surrounding him like a messy nest. Most shocking of all was his face, it was bloated beyond recognition, his eyes swollen shut beneath the heavy bandage swathing his head like a turban.

Jethro Gibbs didn't like being in the wrong. He didn't like being hauled over the coals and having to answer for how he ran his team. In the last few days three people, whose judgement and professionalism he respected, had called into question his methods and challenged him about his treatment of McGee and of his team in general . . .he wanted to deny their concerns but his own innate honesty forced him to admit that there was too much truth in their words to be ignored . But more important than any discomfort he felt at having his own shortcomings forced into the spotlight was one indisputable fact, they were a team, his team and he did not leave his men behind.

He had chosen Tim, brought him on to his team. . .and he had then left him to flounder.

His blindness and neglect had driven a dedicated and valuable member of his team to question his worth and doubt his abilities.

Jethro Gibbs would break his own rule about apologies and he would make this right.

He reached out his hand and gently touched the pale cheek, resting it there until the head tilted towards him slightly.

"Dad, is that you?" it was no more than a parched, anxious whisper.

"No, McGee, it's Gibbs."

"B-boss,"

"I'm sorry, Tim, I let you down. . ."

From the doorway a worried father looked on. They had let his boy down. Now he had to trust Gibbs to make it right.

And from the look of determination in those piercing blue eyes, nothing would get between Jethro Gibbs and his intention of getting Tim back where he belonged.

_Semper Fi_

**Finis**

Shireling August 2009


End file.
